If Not Now…
by TalysAlankil
Summary: After the funeral held for Radiant City University's Dean Ansem, Ventus is stuck in town, and is offered a place to crash by his classmate Vanitas, not knowing his secret. For Vanven week with the prompts "Innocence" and "Mask".


The city was cordoned off by the police as soon as the news hit. Dean Ansem of Radiant City University had died. He had been _murdered_, by none other than the sword-wielding mask vigilante known as the Red Mask. One of the more recent addition to the city's super-powered roster, and not one known to work for good—though this murder was him graduating to the highest tier of dangerous villains.

For Ventus, this was a pain in the ass, though it wouldn't be seeming to voice his frustration. All students of RCU had been extended an invitation to the funeral, though somehow they still only accounted for half of the crowd. Ansem wasn't just a university dean, and he had a lot of friends and admirers who had come to mourn him.

Which just struck Ven as a bit of hypocrisy—all these VIPs coming in, but he couldn't go home? He'd chosen not to sign up for on-campus lodging to save money, even if it meant an hour-long commute both ways, and now he was stuck in the city with nowhere to go. It wasn't like hotel rooms were within his budget, either, not within downtown Radiant City. And since the canals that circled the downtown area had all been blocked off, he had no way of leaving.

In spite of his best attempts at self-control, he must have let his frustration show as he walked across the funerarium's entrance hall, because he drew a few looks from his fellow students. One of them actually came up to him, a black-haired boy who looked incredibly sharp in his black suit, even if Ven was pretty sure the red tie was inappropriate for a funeral.

"Hey," the boy said, "you okay? You look upset."

Ven knew him; he was a freshman too, and they were in most of their classes together. "Yeah, I—it's stupid, but I have nowhere to go until the blockade is lifted."

"You don't?" The boy tilted his head, then his eyes widened with recognition. "Right—I never see you at the student dorms. You staying off-campus?"

Ven nodded. "I live just outside of town. Which, right now, might as well be across the country."

"Sorry about that. Ventus, right? We're in a few classes together."

"Yeah. Call me Ven, though—everyone does. And your name is…Vanitas?"

Vanitas nodded. "Well, if you need a place to crash, I have room on my couch."

Ven stared at him, raising an eyebrow. "I—" Was this weird? They weren't exactly strangers, but they hadn't really talked before, either. He managed to keep his tone light as he asked, "Are you gonna murder me in my sleep?"

To his surprise, Vanitas laughed heartily at that. "No. I _had_ been meaning to find a reason to talk to you, though." He glanced around, then, with a complicit look, he added, "Although I think most people would say your joke is 'too soon'." He winked, and Ven couldn't help but blush at that.

"T-talk to me?" His voice had gone up in pitch of its own accord.

"Uh-huh." There was an insistent heat in Vanitas's golden eyes.

"Like, as in—"

"I think you know. I've seen you checking me out in class."

"I did _not_!" Ven's protest was met with a skeptical stare. And truth be told, he _had_—but he hadn't thought Vanitas had _noticed_. Or that he was interested too. "You do realize this isn't helping your case of 'murdering me in my sleep', right?"

"Look, I'm not trying to pressure you into anything. I'm really just offering you a place to crash." He paused for an instant, then added, rushed and mumbling, "And maybe I can ask you out some other time, too."

His hesitation was a crack in his bravado that strangely put Ventus at ease. Maybe he really _was_ just trying to ask Ven out in the strangest way possible. Which meant that maybe it was okay to take him up on the offer.

And besides, Ventus was in college. If he didn't do crazy things _now_, then when?

"Okay," he said. "Thank you."

"Great!" Vanitas's face lit up with a smile, although it was only brief, vanishing almost immediately. "I mean—good. Come on. It's just a few blocks away."

A rainstorm had started while they were inside the funerarium, making Ven groan in frustration as he walked out into the night. "Great, my suit's gonne be ruined." It was his only good suit, too.

Vanitas shuffling close to his side startled him, until he opened an umbrella for the both of them. "Here," he said with a smirk at Ventus. "Stick close to me and you'll be fine."

Ven couldn't help but frown at him. "I swear, if the rain was your doing and is part of some weird seduction plan—"

"I don't control the rain, Ventus."

Ven huffed. "You _could_. With all the supers going around these days."

"I can't really prove a negative, so you're just gonna have to believe me, I'm afraid." Another wink—like he was trying to make Ven melt just from those. Ven wasn't sure he wouldn't.

"I know," Ven said.

"All this because I'm thoughtful enough to take an umbrella _and_ to share it with you," Vanitas said, though his tone was exaggerated enough for Ven to know he was joking. "You wound me, Ventus."

"Sorry." Ven chuckled. "Let me make it up to you."

"Really? How do you plan to—"

Ven reached for the umbrella and wrapped his hand around the handle where Vanitas's was, lacing their fingers together. That, to his satisfaction, managed to shut Vanitas up, and Ven was pretty sure he even saw a hint of a blush on him—although it could have just been from the wind. Heat was definitely creeping up Ven's own cheeks, though.

"So," he said, trying to distract himself. "You have an apartment downtown? That's fancy."

"It's not _mine_, it's like…on loan to me?"

The answer felt evasive enough to pique Ven's interest. "On loan?"

"Yeah. My mentor owns it."

"Mentor?"

Vanitas grimaced. "He's…like a father to me. It's complicated."

"Bad complicated?" Should he drop it? It felt rude to ask, and rude not to.

"No, just complicated. We're here."

He had stopped in front of an old brownstone house, just a few minutes away from campus. It looked like one of the city's historical old homes, the kind only inhabited by people whose families had been there for generations or people who were ridiculously wealthy. Usually both.

"Wow," Ven couldn't help but say.

"I only have the second floor," Vanitas replied, though there was a hint of embarrassment in his voice anyway. "It's—let's just go in."

Something about the flustered way Vanitas fumbled with his keys and the umbrella made Ventus smile. "I can hold the umbrella for the both us, you know," he pointed out. Vanitas looked at him, briefly looking like he was going to argue, then nodded.

A minute later, they were up the stairs and in Vanitas's apartment. The place looked surprisingly bare considering the location; Ven had expected it to overflow with signs of age, the passing of generations who had lived here, but there was nothing. Still, albeit impersonal, the apartment was nice—nicer than his family's house on the outskirts of town for sure. When Ven sat down in one of the couches, he felt like he might never want to get up. Clearly crashing on Vanitas's couch wasn't so bad.

Still, he couldn't do nothing just yet. In spite of the umbrella, Ven's hair and face were still damp from the rain and the wind, and he needed out of his suit. "Um—" he started, catching Vanitas's attention. "Do you think I could borrow a change of clothes?"

The way color flushed ot Vanitas's cheeks was far too noticeable. "Yeah, of course, I can lend you something," he said. "Come with me."

Ven remembered to take off his shoes before he left wet footprints across the floorboards, and followed Vanitas deeper into the apartment, to a room he realized was Vanitas's bedroom. Across an entire wall of the room was a massive wardrobe, and Vanitas walked up to it, tossing his jacket to the side. From where he stood at the door, Ventus couldn't help but stare at the way his dress shirt pulled at his shoulders or hugged the lines of his chest.

Vanitas pulled out pajamas from the wardrobe, and turned back to Ventus, looking slightly surprised. "You can come in, you know."

"Oh, I—" Ven hesitated, then forced himself to cross the threshold and walk over to Vanitas, looking at the clothes in his hands. Here he was, in a boy's room, right after said boy had expressed interest in him, about to take pajamas so he could go crash on the couch in the next room. His heart was racing from the proximity to Vanitas, from the closer look at his shirt, _sinfully_ taut across his pecs, and—

Well, he _was_ in college. If he didn't do crazy things _now_, then when?

Vanitas dropped the clothes when Ventus pounced on him, whimpering in surprise and barely catching the wardrobe to keep his balance. But once the surprised passed, he returned Ven's kiss eagerly, his hands sliding under Ven's jacket and beginning to remove it. It was Ven's only good suit, but maybe for _this_ he could allow it to be mistreated.

Just before Vanitas slipped his hands under Ven's belt, however, he paused. "Are you sure about this?" he asked, panting heavily.

"Yeah, I—"

"I said _no pressure_."

"I got that," Ven said, grinning. "I wanna do this, though. Do you?"

Vanitas's only response was to kiss him again, and work his belt open.

* * *

"Damn," Ven said, rolling back onto the mattress. "I should be stuck in town more often."

"Oh yeah? Are you saying you want _more_ faculty to die?"

Ven glanced at Vanitas with a grimace. "Come on, that's just grim."

"Is it? Who was joking about being murdered in their sleep?" Vanitas grinned, and slid a hand across Ven's thigh. "Did I ruin the mood too much for another go?"

Ven scoffed, and swatted him away. "_Ugh_. I didn't realize you were an asshole."

"I don't remember you having anything bad to say about my asshole a minute ago."

Rolling his eyes, Ven forced himself to set up to hide his smile. "Whatever."

Instantly, Vanitas sat up as well, suddenly worried. "Are you okay? I'm just kidding, you know that, right?"

Ven turned to him, giving up on the struggle to hide his smile. "Yeah. I'm okay." He reached for Vanitas's cheek, stroking it gently. "I didn't peg you for a worrier."

Vanitas let out a nervous laugh. "I just—wanted to make sure. I don't do this a lot."

"Me neither."

A brief look of panic crossed Vanitas's features. "That—wasn't your first time, was it? I swear, if it was, I would have—"

"It wasn't," Ven replied, trying to keep a steady smile and hoping it would soothe him. "Although if it had been, it wouldn't be a bad first time at all." He dared a wink before he turned away. "So…where's the bathroom?"

It took Vanitas a moment to reply. "Down the hall," he said, nodding towards the bedroom door as if it were any help. Ven hoped it was enough, and got up from the bed, not bothering to look for his discarded clothes on the floor.

The instruction was painfully vague, as the hallway was lined with a total of half a dozen doors. Ven knew where the bedroom was, obviously, and remembered where the living room and the entrance had been, but that still left too many options. Ven sighed, resigned to trying them all one by one.

He heard a faint curse coming from the bedroom, and just as he opened the first door, Vanitas emerged from the bedroom. Ven's attention, however, was fixed on the closet he'd opened by mistake—and the jet-black sword contained in it, resting in a precarious balance between a vacuum cleaner, two soccer balls, and an ironing board. It was instantly recognizable, from the stark color, so dark as to look like it pulled all light around it, and from the chains engraved on the sheath and handle. This sword was unique, impossible to replicate as a prop, and Ven had seen it a few times over his freshman year—as had most of Radiant City.

He turned back to Vanitas, who had dashed over to him, still naked—and clearly realizing he was too late.

"You're—the Red Mask," Ventus said. His pulse rushed again—though for different reasons than earlier. "You're a supervillain." It sounded impossible, yet he didn't see another explanation.

Vanitas's eyes were imploring, and he held out his hands defensively in front of himself, as if Ven was going to attack him. "You don't understand."

Ven frowned. "You murdered Dean Ansem. Why would you come to his funeral—"

"You really _don't_ understand."

"What is there possibly to—"

"Yes, I am the Red Mask," Vanitas said. He nodded down, towards the closet. Ventus followed his look, wary for it to just be a distraction—but no. There, on the floor, was the Red Mask's…well, mask, the shiny black helmet.

Ven looked back up at Vanitas. "Why would you—"

"Because I didn't kill Cato Ansem. I'm innocent."


End file.
